Anne Quatrano’s new “mainly breakfast” restaurant, Summerland, is rooted in Georgia

The Connecticut transplant brings her family’s farm to the breakfast table

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smoked salmon, eggs, and hollandaise on housemade English muffin
Summerland mornings start with farm-fresh flavors: smoked salmon, eggs, and hollandaise on housemade English muffin

Photograph by Martha Williams

Many of the people who have defined Atlanta didn’t come from Atlanta. Ted Turner, Hank Aaron, Andrew Young, Shirley Franklin, Arthur Blank—there’s not a native among them.

You could put Anne Quatrano in that category. Perhaps no one has shone more brightly on the local culinary scene than the James Beard Award–winning chef who in 1993 founded one of our most beloved restaurants, Bacchanalia, with her husband and business partner, Clifford Harrison. He’s from Hawaii; she’s from Connecticut. But she has grown deep roots in Georgia since her arrival in 1992, and she proudly displays them at her latest restaurant.

Summerland, Quatrano’s new breakfast and lunch spot on the Upper Westside, takes its name from the farm where she and Harrison live, 45 miles northwest of the city, outside Cartersville. The 60 acres of rich bottomland along the Etowah River has been in her mother’s family since before the Civil War. After Quatrano and Harrison met in culinary school in California, they cut their teeth at restaurants in New York and Nantucket and then decided to relocate to Georgia in large part because of that land. Farm to table is more than a slogan with them; it’s a way of life.

Summerland—the restaurant—is in the Upper West Market, a new indoor emporium for food purveyors not far from Bacchanalia and the couple’s market cafe, Star Provisions. It’s an airy, light-filled space with sage-green wicker chairs at round tables and bench-sofa seating accented by fluffy throw pillows that bring to mind a nap in a sunroom. The back wall features a floral mural painted on planks that came from old fencing at Quatrano’s farm. You can practically hear the roosters crowing.

Summerland functions as a sit-down restaurant and a takeout place. One side of the room has a counter where coffee drinks are made to order and take-away baked goods are displayed: breads and pastries such as strawberry poundcake and savories like chicken sausage rolls. The rest of the room offers dining service from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. Wednesdays through Sundays.

“Mainly breakfast,” the menu says, and it means it. Quatrano and her executive chef, Eaksuree Poonsiripukdeekul, offer 16 main dishes, about half of which include eggs. The best ones: smoked salmon over an English muffin with herb cream cheese, pickled spinach, egg, and hollandaise ($20); avocado toast on pretzel bread, topped with goat cheese, and jagged pieces of crostini placed vertically like little shark fins, a soft-cooked egg alongside ($15); and pancakes with blueberry compote and crème fraiche ($16).

coffee with chef-owner Anne Quatrano
Coffee with chef-owner Anne Quatrano

Photograph by Martha Williams

pancakes with blueberry compote
Pancakes with blueberry compote

Photograph by Martha Williams

That last one was listed on the online menu as cottage cheese pancakes, but when I asked what happened to the cottage cheese, the server made a face. “We’re not doing that anymore,” he said. “It wasn’t working for us.” You have to like a restaurant that tries stuff.

They may want to rethink another dish as well. I found the French milk toast with whipped ricotta, crème anglaise, and feuilletine flakes, which are basically crepe crumbs ($16), soggy and disappointing.

The mains are supplemented by a roster of sides that include two standouts: chicken link sausage and glazed pork belly in thick slices that will make you forget about mere bacon.

Maybe a third of the menu leans toward lunch. My favorites were the lemony Georgia white shrimp on buttery brioche with remoulade ($28) and the seasonal Sunday roast ($38)—slices of New York strip served with roasted root vegetables, mushrooms, and beef jus. They go well with a side of potatoes fried in duck fat and served with aioli.

In addition to coffee and fresh juices, Summerland offers wine and beer, spritzes and tonics, and a lineup of brunch tipples, among them a spicy garden tomato Bloody Mary and a peach-and-raspberry Bellini.

Everything is served with the attention to detail that Atlantans have come to expect from Quatrano. During my first visit to Summerland, I was duly amused by the amuse-bouche the server brought out: bites of watermelon and cantaloupe with notches in the rind to pick them up like dainty finger foods. I also noticed a fellow diner looking for a place to park her purse; a server quickly appeared with what looked like a toy milking stool so her pocketbook didn’t have to touch the floor. Nice.

Summerland plans to change its menu with the seasons. When it opened in late summer, the restaurant’s tomatoes, peppers, and herbs came from Quatrano’s fields. Autumn will bring beets, turnips, and winter squash.

Whatever the season, Summerland gives us another reason to be glad that Quatrano remains one of Atlanta’s most defining transplants.

This article appears in our October 2026 issue.

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